Fate of the Flames
by VereorNox
Summary: The Flames have began to fade, and the Dark has began to creep in. But one Undead, the Chosen Undead, has been prophesied to either rekindle the Flames and start again the Age of Fire, or to extinguish them and bring in a new Age of Dark. Feel free to voice out opinions. Hope you enjoy reading, and may the Flames guide thee.
1. Prison Break

_In the beginning, in a barren land shrouded by fog, great archtrees and everlasting stone dragons ruled across the cracked and ruined earth._

_But then, came the Fire._

_And with that Fire, came disparity; heat and cold, life and death and most prominently, Light and Dark._

_And from that Dark, They came; all clamoring to the Fire for the Lord Souls trapped within._

_Nito; the first of the dead._

_The Witch of Izalith; and her Daughters of Chaos._

_Gwyn; Lord of Sunlight, accompanied by his faithful Black Knights._

_And the furtive pygmy; so easily forgotten._

_With their new-found power, they challenged the dragons._

_From there, Gwyn unleashed his mighty bolts of lighting and peeled back the stone scales of the dragons. The witches weaved storms of fire that burned the dragons to ash. Nito unleashed a potent miasma of death and decay, reducing all the dragons to nothing but rubble. And Seath the Scaleless betrayed his own flesh and blood as they all fought back the dragons until finally, they were no more._

_Thus began the Age of Fire._

_But, eons of years later, the Fire has begun to die, the flames have begun to fade and soon, nothing but Dark will remain._

_And now amongst the living are those branded with the accursed Darksign, the Undead, burdened to see no more days, instead, only eternal nights._

_Now, all over the earth, Undead are corralled to the Undead Asylum, where they are left to rot until the end of time itself._

_But, legends also speak of the Chosen Undead who would return to link the Fire…or to end it and bring in the new Age of Dark…_

_This is your fate…_

Within one of the damp and aged cells of the Undead Asylum, a place to where all Undead are banished to await the end of time itself, a figure is sitting down on the floor, his back up against the wall as he stared through the hole in the ceiling.

So many suns and moons had passed overhead, so many days and nights since he was banished here and left to rot out the rest of his unending life. He let out a raspy sigh before looking down at a set of numerous keys in his hands.

Before he was branded by the Darksign, he was a notorious bandit who would steal from both the rich and the poor, yet ironically never took a life in his whole time as one. All the keys he had acquired allowed him to break into and out of almost any building or residence. Ironic, how every one of those keys meant nothing now, with each key being unable to open the door right in front of him.

He returned his attention to the hole in the ceiling, expecting to see the same sun he'd seen every day. But to his surprise, there was now another figure looming over him. The man was obviously a knight; his lustrous steel armor and regal shield proved it. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, the sound of the moans of the other tenants in this prison echoing with the wind, until the knight pushed in what looked like the body of a guard. It fell down quickly and hit the ground like a sack of bricks, the sound of a few cracking bones resonating through the hallway.

The figure looked down at the corpse lying in front of him. While there was nothing spectacular about the guard's weathered leather armor, small steel ax hilt, there was another key on his body which almost seemed to beckon the man. The figure looked back up to see if the knight was there, but to his dismay, all that was there was the familiar sun and sky he had gotten so used to.

The man walked over to the corpse, pondering whether or not he should take whatever was on it. He had taken many different objects, both treasure and trash alike in his lifetime, but never had he taken from the dead. But now was not the time for remorse, and the man took everything that the corpse could offer. The man, now donning the guard's leather armor and wielding both the small hilt, walked over to the rusted iron door.

He looked at it for a moment, its sturdy yet extremely rusted iron bars were the only thing keeping him from the outside; keeping him from his freedom. Yet as he moved the key closer to open the door, he couldn't help but feel a sense of anxiety wash over him. Could he really survive out there? Could he really abandon his own little piece of sanctuary, no matter how melancholic it may have been? Could he really face whatever would be thrown at him and withstand the burden of what would be placed on him?

Quickly shrugging off the numerous doubtful thoughts racing through his mind, the man began to feel for the keyhole on the other side of the door. Once he found it, he stuck the key inside and attempted to open the door. Despite how easy it was to slide it in, the key was almost impossible to turn inside the lock, until finally the man heard a loud click. He gently pushed the door open and took his first step outside his cell for the first time after what seemed like eternity.


	2. Warden's Assault

The man, wielding the broken hilt in his right hand, took a few more steps from his cell before noticing the giant demon in the spacious room to his right. Despite its disgustingly rotund body and lumpy green skin, it would make even a seasoned warrior cringe with fear at the sight of the titanic hammer it wielded.

Not wanting to alert the demon and waste his chance at freedom, the man took extra precaution to silence his footsteps. Suddenly, he noticed some movement further down the hallway. Leaning on the weathered stone walls of the hallway was what looked like a human banging his head on the masonry. But as the man walked closer, he saw that the figure was nothing but skin and bones; some of which could be seen through decayed patches of what looked like rotten flesh.

The man merely stared on in shock at the rather revolting figure. Despite being an Undead, this was the first Hollowed he had ever encountered. Unsure of what would happen next, the man readied his hilt and slowly approached the Hollow. The Hollow then looked at the man; its glowing red eyes making him stop in place, before returning to mindlessly banging its head into the wall. Not wanting any unnecessary conflict, even more so anything that would alert the demon to his right, the man simply walked past it.

A little further down the hallway, past a few more oblivious Hollows, the man found a rusted ladder leading upwards towards the surface. Once he reached the top, he took in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of fresh air and the tranquility of silence for the first time in centuries.

He looked around, trying to see if there was any way to actually escape the prison he was in, aside from the large iron doors, there was a small rusted sword sticking out of a pile of ash and another iron gate much like the one of his cell. He walked over to the iron gate to see where it led, but it could only be opened from the other side.

He then walked over to the small sword sticking out from the ash pile. While it looked like it would crumble to dust the moment he touched it, the man noticed how the sword seemed to radiate a faint light. His curiosity getting the better of him, the man reached out for the sword in an attempt to see if it could be of use to him as a weapon. But just as he was close enough to grab it, the ash pile burst into flames, sending the man jumping backwards.

Quite dumbfounded by the mysterious spontaneous combustion he had just witnessed, the man just stared at the small fire for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. He slowly reached for the fire, still trying to figure out whether or not what he was looking at was actually real.

He could definitely feel the warmth of the bonfire, and it was giving off a comforting light. Yet as his hands were licked by the tips of the flames, his hands felt no pain and his gauntlets didn't catch fire. He then decided to sit down by the fire and rest for a moment. Despite having been an able bandit in the past, the man had grown rather weak since he had become an Undead and was banished to the Undead Asylum.

Once he felt some of his strength come back to him, the man stood up and headed towards the larger iron doors. With a slow but steady pace, the man pushed the doors open, letting out a sigh of fatigue once he finished. The sight that greeted him wasn't a welcome one though; yet another door, almost twice as big as the ones he had just pushed open. He quickly ran towards the door, but stopped right in front of it.

Something wasn't right. The man could feel every fiber of his body screaming out to run, flee, and just move to anywhere but where he was all at the same time, but just as he began to back away from the door, the sound of wings flapping in the distance broke the eerie silence. Then a loud growl echoed throughout the abandoned hallways of the Undead Asylum. He readied himself for whatever was coming, holding his broken hilt in both hands.

He moved away from the door a bit, backing up towards the center of the room. Suddenly, a familiar looking demon landed right where he was standing just moments ago. As the floor began to crease and crack under the weight of the plump beast, the man steeled his resolve and charged at it, the adrenaline in his body making him believe his broken hilt would make a difference. But to his dismay, the hilt merely bounced off the beast's fat thigh; only managing to infuriate the beast.

With a violent swing, the beast swung its hammer in counterattack. If it weren't for the man's reflexes, he would have been hit by the head of the hammer instead of its hilt, yet he was still knocked back a few feet away from the beast. Such a violent blow would've made any normal human pass out from pain; thankfully being Undead bestowed the man with some benefits like his inability to feel pain. He slowly pushed himself up off the ground, but the beast's assault wouldn't let up. It swung its hammer in another furious arc, knocking the man to the far end of the room.

While he had no ability to feel pain, he could tell his body was beginning to succumb to the damage; his sword arm was broken in too many places to count and his ribs were crushed into his withered lungs. Realizing one more hit would mean the end of him, the man frantically looked for any escape. Going back was not an option, for the demon was standing in front of the door he came through, and the doors at the other side of the room would take too long to open, provided he actually had the key to fit the giant lock. Then, something caught his eye; there was an opening in the far left corner of the room.

In one last push before his body would completely fail him, the man dashed as fast as his legs would allow him and jumped through the doorway, hearing it shut behind him just as the demon smashed its hammer into the ground. The man slowly got back up to feet and backed away from the door as the demon continued to attack it. But despite its rather simple design, the door managed to withstand the flurry of blows the demon threw at it, before it finally gave up and simply walked away, finally ending its brutal assault.


	3. The Knight's Repose

Chapter 3: The Knight's Repose

The man continued down the flight of stairs leading further from the doorway he'd just jumped through, his body beginning to fail from all the damage it received. Then, a familiar sight managed to catch the warrior's eye. At the bottom of the flight of stairs there was an ash pile much like the one he had seen before. Still quite curious about its true nature, he sat down by the bonfire and reached out towards the sword.

The moment it burst into flames, the worn-out Undead's wounds began to heal and his strength began to come back to him. Once he felt as good as new, the bandit rushed towards the light at the other end of the room; newfound confidence running through his body. But just as quickly as the confidence had built up, the man felt it begin to seep out of him as an arrow came flying through the air and pierced through his right shoulder. At the end of the hallway, he saw another Hollow aiming for him with its flimsy bow. The sudden realization that his puny hilt wouldn't be able to save him now, the man started to look around frantically for anything he could use as a weapon.

Then, something in the ruined cell beside him caught his eye. There was a corpse, one that had been there for quite some time now, with a small red shield sporting a black spider decal on it laying on the damp ground beside it. He looked back down the hallway and noticed that there was another corpse, a shiny silver axe stuck in its head, right behind the Hollow archer. Deciding it was best that he got the shield first, the bandit ran into the ruined cell to his left, barely dodging an arrow as he felt the feathered end brush against his neck, and picked up the small shield. Once he fastened it to his left hand, trying to regain the feel of using a shield after so long, the Undead quickly ran back out into the hallway and charged at the Hollow archer. With one swift motion he bashed the face of the shield into the Hollow's, knocking it to the ground. As the archer struggled to get back up, the warrior bashed it at the back of its head with such force that it flung its shriveled body a few feet away.

The man merely watched on as the body twitched for a moment until it grew still as its faintly glowing red eyes faded into black. Walking over to the corpse with the axe lodged in its head, the man couldn't stop staring at the limp body of the Hollow he had just attacked. Never before in his past life had he taken a life, but as he made himself believe before; now was not the time for remorse. He took a firm hold of the axe and quickly yanked it out, small globs of maroon ooze splattering onto him as it was flicked off its edge. Brandishing the new axe, swinging it a few times to regain the feel of his sword arm, the man was now at a loss of where to keep the almost useless sword hilt. Despite its obvious uselessness, he couldn't seem to knowingly part with it. So, the warrior decided to attach a small piece of cloth to it and wore it around his neck.

He then looked around once again, trying to figure out where he would have to go next. The only other path besides the one he had come from was the one to his left which led up a flight of stairs towards what looked like a wall of white fog. He began walking down the path that led to the wall of white fog, his shield in his left hand and his axe in his right. Stopping right in front of the fog wall, he took in a deep breath before walking through it. On the other side, through the rusted iron grating, he could see the first bonfire he had lit and the large iron doors that led to the room where that giant demon had attacked him. To his left was a path blocked off by piles rubble and to his right was what looked like two flights of stairs, one leading up and another leading back down; most likely to the door he wasn't able to open before. Just as he began walking down the flight of stairs, he heard faint mumblings echoing off walls.

"…This…*gack*…This is it…for me…" a voice muttered with faded breaths.

The man returned to where the stairwells started, noticing the crumbling wall right in front of him. Just as he approached it, he heard the same weary voice from behind the wall.

"Hello…Is…Is someone…there?" the voice asked.

Before the bandit could react, he heard the faint moans of a Hollow nearby. He looked around, trying to find the source, until he saw a pair of dimly glowing eyes at the top of the stairwell. Confident he would be able to take the lowly creature on, the man charged up the stairs, only to be swatted back down the whole flight by an oncoming boulder. As he slowly pushed himself up, he noticed some rays of light shining through the newly made hole in the wall.

"Ah…so…someone's…*hack*…finally found me…" the voice stated, now much more audible.

The man walked through the hole and saw the same knight from his cell, lying down on a pile of rubble as sunlight that came through an opening above him made his armor shimmer like lustrous silver. As the bandit approached his savior, he noticed how the water near the knight was dyed a deep red.

"…It's you…the one…from the cell…" the knight stated weakly, "Come…closer…I've something to tell you…"

The bandit walked closer and knelt beside the knight.

""Regrettably…I've failed my mission…" the knight stated, "I'll die soon…then I'll go hollow…but maybe…you can keep the torch lit?"

The knight paused for a moment, his breathing becoming weaker with each word he said.

"…A legend once stated…on how a chosen undead…would make a pilgrimage to the land of Lordran, land of the lords…after his exodus form the asylum…and how he would be fated…to rekindle the Fire…and bring an end to the curse of the undead…" the knight recited, just before he began coughing violently.

"Well…*gack*…now you know…and now I can…die in peace…" the knight continued, "Now go…I would hate to hurt you…after I've gone…"

As he slowly stood up, the bandit couldn't take his eyes off the wounded knight.

"…Before you go…I…I want you to have these…" the knight said as he stretched out his hand.

In his palm was what looked like another rusty key. As the bandit took it from his hand, the knight reached back into a pouch beside him.

"Oh…and take this…an estus flask…" the knight replied as he stretched out his hand again, "…It is…an Undead favorite…quite a delectable little thing for those…like you and me…"

Once again, the bandit took what the knight had offered to him. Then, he just stayed there, silently standing over the wounded knight.

"Ah…you're still here…why?"

Numerous thoughts started running through the bandits head. This man here was the one who saved him, the one who made his whole escape possible; yet there he laid suffering, now merely waiting for the inevitable end. No matter how he looked at it, there were only two things his conscience would allow him to do; either leave the man to his hollowed fate, or end his suffering right there and now. With a shaking hand, he raised his axe high above his head; readying to bring it down onto the knight below.

"Heh…I see…You've no desire…of letting me die peacefully…" the knight replied, a faint chuckle escaping his lips, "…And to think…I thought you-

The knight fell silent as the bandit swung his axe right through his neck, cutting through the thin steel of his helmet and severing his head from his body. While all he had done was hasten the future, the bandit fell to his knees, overcome by anxiety and almost childlike guilt over what he'd done. As the knight's blood began to spill from his neck and pour all over his lustrous armor, staining it a deep crimson, the bandit reached out to hold the body by the shoulders and lay it down properly. But before he could even touch it, the knight's corpse was enveloped by a white light as it slowly began to fade. Soon, not even a single thing was left of the knight; only an empty space of where the bandit's savior had been before he ended the knight's suffering once and for all.


	4. Exodus

The bandit was kneeling in the same damp room as before; the hole in the ceiling above him was shining down on what looked like a small pile of bricks stacked upon each other, most likely a grave for the knight who had given up his life to help him escape. After a few moments of deathly silence, the man stood up and headed back out through the giant hole in the wall. Now fueled by melancholy anger, the man rushed up the stairs with almost demonic speed and slashed the Hollow at the top, cutting it in half across its torso in one fell swoop. As crimson sludge oozed out from the chopped up Hollow, the man continued his mad rampage through the empty halls of the Undead Asylum.

Just a little further from the top of the staircase, there was a large open balcony overlooking the mountains where the Undead Asylum was built. Still blinded by rage, the warrior failed to notice the Hollows in the same balcony as he rushed outside, allowing two of them to slash at him with their broken swords. While they only wielded hilts just as useless as the one he had before, the edges of the hilts were still sharp and managed to cut deep through the man's thin leather armor and his Undead skin. Before the man could launch his own counter attack, he felt a strange sensation run through his head as an arrow pierced right through his left eye, or whatever was left of it.

He stumbled back in shock, not sure what he was more shocked about; the ferocity of the attack he had just endured or the fact that he could still think with this arrow lodged in his head. Nonetheless, he pushed himself up off the ground and readied his axe. But before he could even swing it, another arrow flew straight at him and pierced through his left shoulder, rendering him defenseless as it hindered his ability to even raise his shield.

With a sloppy swing, he managed to take down one of the Hollow swordsmen, but ended up leaving himself open for the second one's attack as it slashed his right leg. As his legs buckled up, he fell down to the ground, almost completely crippled by the Hollows before him. But with one last push, he swung his axe at the other Hollow swordsman, slicing through both its legs and then its head as it fell to the ground.

He slowly pushed himself off the ground again, now using his axe as a crutch, and slowly limped towards the archer, becoming a virtual pin cushion as each arrow the Hollow loosed pierced through his armor. Finally, after almost his whole body had become riddled with arrows, the bandit managed to get close enough to the archer to swing at him with his axe. But due to how weak his body had gotten, his axe had only managed to lodge itself deep into the archer's chest and failed to kill the Hollow. With one swift blow, the archer thrusts an arrow deep through the bandit's forehead. As his vision began to slowly fade away, the bandit caught a glimpse of the archer stumbling towards him, an arrow in its hand, just before it stabbed the arrow right through his neck.

Then, there was nothing but a black abyss all around him. He couldn't see himself, the Hollow that had just slain him, or the familiar walls of the Asylum. He couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet or hear the sound of wind blowing faintly through hallways that had been empty for hundreds of years. He couldn't feel the numerous arrows that had pierced through him, or the deep cuts his body had sustained. All he could do was wander in this abyss his consciousness had found itself in. But then, he could see a faint orange light. He couldn't tell where it was, as all directions had no meaning in the black abyss he was in; all he could tell was that there was a light there. He felt himself being drawn towards it, yet at the same time growing more distant from it.

In a burst of white, the man found himself back in the same damp room that led into the hallway where he found his weapon. Still unsure of what had just happened, the bandit looked down at the bonfire beside him. Had he just felt the cold sting of death? Had he been brought back from the realm of nothingness by this simple flame? He was sure he was there, he could feel, hear and see everything that was there. He knew the fire could heal his wounds, but could they really have restored his life? As these thoughts began to race through the newly arisen bandit's mind, a familiar moan echoed through the empty hallways.

He readied his axe and his shield, and charged through the hallway, cutting down the same Hollow archer he first met with equal ease. With a blistering speed, the bandit ran through the hallways he had passed through before, cutting down the Hollow that was waiting for him at the top of the stairwell with almost no hesitation. Suddenly, the man slowed down to a halt as he reached a familiar balcony. At the end of the hallway were two Hollows aimlessly stumbling around the ruined floor, but he could still remember the feel of the arrows that the archer nearby loosed onto him.

His axe and shield at the ready, the man took a deep breath, before charging at one of the Hollows, knocking it off the side of the balcony with his shield. He then turned to face the other one shambling towards him and swung at it, slicing both its legs clean off. Just as he was about to land the finishing blow, the familiar sound of an arrow being shot through the air reached his ears, and he just barely managed to dodge the arrow that was aimed for his head. The warrior ran towards the archer that was waiting for him near the edge of the balcony and bashed it to the ground with one swing of his shield. As he stood over the archer's body as it began to bleed out, the bandit had noticed the fog wall behind him. He approached it slowly, swinging his axe once at the leg-less Hollow crawling towards him, but stopped a few inches from it as a feeling of unease washed over him.

From the other side of the fog wall, he could hear the low grumblings of the very same grotesque demon that had attacked him before. He stepped back a bit and glanced behind him. The balcony he was on overlooked the mountains, and the ground below was covered with grass instead of stone. Looking back at the fog wall the bandit knew that the only thing standing between him and his freedom now was the demon waiting for him in that room. Steeling his resolve, the man took a few more paces backwards, before charging right through the fog wall, only to find himself flying through the air above the Asylum demon. Time seemed to slow down as he fell through the air. He could see the demon below him, swinging its giant hammer wildly at the air. The bandit, slowly readying his axe for a plunging attack, wielded it with both his hands and positioned it just above the demon's head.

Suddenly, time began to speed up, and in one swift motion the bandit could feel his axe sliding right through the demon's exposed skull. He pulled it out just as quickly, making the demon stumble back in pain as it shook him off. As deep green blood began to ooze from the demon's head, the man quickly got back up to his feet and charged at the demon. With each furious slash, another wound was added to the demon's fat hide until there were even cuts within the folds of its flab.

Soon, the demon's energy had evidently left him, as even holding its own hammer was becoming a chore for it. Yet, the demon still had some energy left, managing to hit the bandit every now and then with force that belied its fatigued demeanor. But, in the end, after one last slash, with the entirety of the bandit's weight behind it, the demon toppled over backwards and breathed its last breath. The bandit stood over the beast's gigantic carcass as he caught his breath, until suddenly, the beast's body was enveloped in a bright white light as it began to fade out of existence. Soon, nothing that even resembled the beast was left; not its deep-green flabby hide or giant black hammer. Instead, a giant key, most likely for the giant doors that led to the outside world, appeared out of thin air and landed with a loud clank onto the stone floor of the large hallway.

Without any hesitation, the man lifted up the key with both his hands easily, despite his fatigue, and hurried over towards the two iron doors. He placed the key deep within the keyhole on the giant lock, hearing a loud chunk echo through the asylum. He struggled to twist the heavy key, but soon enough the lock fell to the ground; finally opened after hundreds of years, and the bandit pushed open the Asylum's doors, hearing them creak as centuries of age were shaken off along with the numerous layers of rust.

As a gust of fresh air filled his withered lungs and blew against his dried skin, the man finally felt the feeling of the sun beating down on his skin and the feel of grass crunching softly underneath his feet. He took his first step out from the Asylum, the sight of towering mountain ranges all around him forming an almost majestic cell of nature around him, and continued forward until he reached the edge of a sheer cliff. Looking over the edge just to see how far it was, he wondered just how he was going to escape from this cliff, until the faint sound of flapping wings in the distance. Suddenly, a giant bird with lustrous jet-black feathers appeared from below and took a firm grasp of the man's body with its equally giant talons.

As the bird took flight off the ground, holding the man within its talons, the first thought that ran through the bandit's head was how much better it would have been, had he just stayed in his cell.


	5. The Firelink Shrine

The wind screaming through the spaces between the giant crow's talons and the sight of nothing but clouds around him did nothing to help the fear stirring within the bandit as he could do nothing but wait for the bird to arrive at its destination. He didn't know how long it had been since it took him away from the Undead Asylum, but one thing the man did know that it wouldn't be long till the bird reached its destination as a dash of deep-green from a nearby mountain peak colored the blank sky.

Soon, more mountain peaks started appearing, and the cloudy skies began to clear up until the man caught a glimpse of an awe inspiring sight. From the sheer white of the cloudy skies behind him, there were now giant spots of green trees and aged brown and gray streaks of the stone of the mountains all around him. As he took in the view, the bird suddenly took a nosedive. The sheer speed of the drop nearly managed to blow off the man's leather helmet right off his head, despite how tightly strapped it was to it. As the scenery screamed past him, the man caught a glimpse of what looked like a stone wall. The farther the bird went, the more frequently the man saw these gray walls. And, from the corner of his eye, as the bird turned around as it slowed down to a halt, he could see what looked like an abandoned shrine.

As the bird swooped in closer, he could feel its grip around his body loosen. Suddenly, the bird released the bandit from its talons, dropping the man in what looked to be a small ruined gathering place. The feel of the fresh soft grass underneath his feet was a calming sensation, but the sight of the softly glowing flames of the bright orange bonfire in front of him brought even more relief. But as he slowly stood up to approach it, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of another warrior donning a complete set of chainmail sitting nearby.

"Ah, a new arrival? Let me guess, the Chosen Undead? Ring the Bell of Awakening to find out thy destiny?" the chainmail warrior stated, a smug look forming across his face.

The bandit merely nodded his head in reply.

"Heheheh, this is rich…I'll have you know that there are in fact, _two_, Bells of Awakening. One in the depths of Blighttowns bowels deep below, and one up above in that old raggedy church."

Before heading on his way, the bandit decided to rest at the bonfire for a moment.

"...You seem to know a lot about this place, ser…" the bandit stated, "I suppose you have a name right?"

"…Feh, tis useless to name a crestfallen knight such as myself; brought to this accursed Lordran, land of the Undead. Even after such dutiful service to my house, oh well…"

"If you'd rather, why not accompany me? Your knowledge would be most welc-

"Follow _you_? And risk losing this little piece of heaven I have right here? I'd sooner turn Hollow!" the crestfallen warrior interrupted, "You've no idea how many "_Chosen Undeads"_ I have seen arrive here looking for the exact same thing you are? Ha, I'll have you know you're no better than the rest!"

"So instead of making something of your skills, you'd rather rot here like a coward?" the bandit asked.

"Tch, who do you think you are that makes yourself _so_ much better than I?" the warrior replied, his annoyance at the bandits incessant pestering beginning to show, "You certainly don't have that royal air about you, and those measly tatters that you might call "armor" are definitely _not_ those of a knight or guard."

"I was a bandit named Larx. Not much, I know, but-

"I agree, it isn't much." the warrior replied, "Now that you mention it, I do remember a couple of undead warriors that had arrived here talking about a notorious bandit leader in Catarina. They said it was a rather odd combination; an artisan of theft and muggings, but never did he take a life. Well, even if you were that very same bandit they've talked about, it wouldn't really matter. You'll be Hollow in a few days anyways!"

Larx decided to ignore the warrior's last comment, and returned to enjoying the tranquility of the bonfire for a few more minutes before exploring the vicinity a bit more.

"What is this place exactly?" Larx asked as he looked around.

To his left was an incredibly tall mountain face that towered far above the sky, and to his right were the ruins of what looked to be a once extravagant shrine.

"From the hearsay I've happened upon, this place is called Firelink Shrine. It's supposedly a shrine that was built by the inhabitants here long ago in honor of Lord Gwyn's attempts to kindle the Flame, but I for one have decided to just enjoy the scenery here."

"So, how do I reach the Bells of Awakening?" Larx asked

"I'll be damned if I knew! There used to be an elevator nearby that would take you right up to the Parish, but that cleric just standing there must mean that it's broken." The warrior stated as he pointed at the ruins behind Larx, "If that was the case, then you'd have to take a trip through the Undead Burg, but I'd hate to see what'd happen if you bumped into that bull…or better yet that dragon that has decided to make its nest on the bridge to the parish…"

"Well then, I guess I shouldn't try to convince you one more time?" Larx asked as he slowly stood up and prepared to leave.

"In light of what I've just stated, it's given me even more reason not to!" the crestfallen warrior exclaimed, "Though since you are such a new arrival, I suggest you ask that cleric over there to maybe accompany you up the tower, though that's probably as far as he'll go. After all, he is apparently waiting for his "companions" to arrive."

"Thanks…I guess…" Larx replied as he slowly walked away from the bonfire.

As he walked towards where the warrior pointed to, he began to catch a glimpse of the true splendor of the Firelink Shrine. Its stone walls extended high above the ground in a nearby tower, and the shrine nearby, albeit its waterlogged state, had a large statue of what looked like to be a woman dressed in flowing robes. He walked up a few flights of stairs until he finally reached the cleric.

"Ah, hello there fellow. I am Petrus of Thorolund." the cleric said in a deep voice, "You must be that new arrival that bird had brought in."

Larx merely nodded in reply. There was something unnerving about this cleric, Larx thought to his self.

"So I suppose you know how to wield a weapon, am I right?" Larx asked, "Be it a sword or shiv, any help would be appreciated."

"Hmm…I know how to wield a mace quite well, but I am afraid that I must remain here." Petrus replied, "You see, I've been sent here to Lordran on a mission, and I simply cannot be distracted by anything else…"

"But, you don't seem to be doing anything at all!" Larx exclaimed, a slight hint of irritation in his voice.

"Well, you see, I am merely waiting for my companions to arrive. But do not fret, whilst I may not be able to accompany you, I could teach you some miracles." Petrus continued, "Would that suffice?"

Larx shook his head in reply.

"I've not had faith in the gods for quite some time now…" Larx stated, politely declining Petrus' offer.

"Ah, well that is a shame…" Petrus replied, "Though, if you do need something better in the way of a weapon-

"Is there something wrong with this?" Larx interrupted as he brandished his axe.

"Well, it's just that, I do recall seeing a rather large sword near a gravestone in the cemetery nearby…And if swords aren't your forte, there was also a spear there too…" Petrus replied, "I may not have ventured very far from here, but I can assure you that you'll need more than that axe to survive…"

"…Well, if that's all you've got to say, I guess there's nothing else to talk about…" Larx continued, "I bid you adieu…"

With a polite wave, Larx left Petrus to his waiting and finally headed out to the unknown of the land of Lordran.


End file.
